Mr. J
by Delacour6
Summary: Mr. J has just settled down in his purple armchair when he gets a visitor...
1.

Mr. J. J. J. J. J. J.  
  
Once upon a time there was a man named Mr. J. J. J. J. J. J. This story is about him. K? K. One morning, Mr. J, yes, we're calling him that whether you like it or not, decided to buy a doughnut. He liked doughnuts. His favorite kind were chocolate covered chocolate ones. He always added some chocolate sprinkles from his chocolate fudge sundae to the top. He was, as you can probably tell, a chocoholic. His favorite food was... no. You guessed wrong. It was frisbees. Why on earth would you guess chocolate? SOME people just don't think strait. Anyway, if you guessed chicken soup, you were close enough. So... Mr. J waddled home, (yes, he was extremely fat), and there he met his pet chinchilla at the door. His pet chinchilla was hyperactive, as all chinchillas are, just in case you were wondering. He sat down on his comfy purple armchair, and read his daily newspaper while he drank a cup of coffee. (Yes, mocha. How did you know?) Anyway, he had just settled down when the doorbell rang. He picked up his fat legs and moved them to the door. He opened it . The woman at the door was tall and skinny. She was blonde, with long hair. Her face was set in a perfect smile. Until the door was answered. Mr. J raised his flabby 15,000 chins. His black, thick un-washed hair didn't move when he did. He looked up two feet to see her.  
"How... can... I... help... you?" he said very slowly, his voice flat, and his words almost completely non-understandable under his heavy Jkaklflgv;ahg;wian accent.   
"Hello, Mr. J," she said crisply, over- enunciating every word, "I am from the Office of the (bla-dee-bla-dee-bla, stuff that sounds important). YOU have been chosen to help the president of this company."  
After Mr. J had worked out what she had said, he folded his arms and opened his mouth to protest. Why would he want to help somebody? But then, before he could utter a word she continued.  
"Of course, there would be a reward," she hurried on.  
"How... much...?" he asked.  
"$300 plus anything else that is givable," she replied shaking back her hair in an I'm-too-good-for-my-job manner.  
"All... right..."  
"Thank you, sir. A limousine will pick you up promptly at 1:30 tomorrow. Unless that is inconvenient to you, please be here," she turned her head side-ways, waiting for him to reply.  
"That's... fine... I'll..." he began.  
"Call us if you change your mind," she interrupted, obviously not wanting to wait for him to finish his train of thought.  
He nodded slowly.   
"Goodbye, and thank you," she turned around and literally marched back to her company car.  
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A/N: Like? Anyway, read on. It's not the end yet! 


	2. 

The Angel's Request  
  
When Mr. J awoke the next morning, he had not forgotten about the job he was supposed to do, whatever it was. He put on some baggy jeans, (no, they were not baggy on him, of course. They were too tight.), and his turtle shirt. The turtle shirt was his favorite shirt, except maybe his Hershey's shirt, and it was covered with pink and purple turtles. He put on his lovely clash-with-anything red and puke green tie, ate eggs and chocolate syrup for breakfast, and pounded down to wait on the sofa. Not long afterwards, the doorbell rang. He opened it to greet the blonde lady, but this time it was a redhead. She was wearing a short, black skirt, and a hot-pink T-shirt.   
"Are you Mr. J," she asked sweetly?  
"Yeah..." he said stupidly.  
"Your limo is waiting," she responded in a sickenatingly cheerful voice.  
He blobbed over to the car and got in the back.   
"Hi, my names Sonia Talk-a-lot!" she babbled. "The chauffeur was sick, so I was picked to take you. I'm the vice president's secretary."  
After listening to "Oops, I Did it Again" over and over, sung by Britney Spears AND her "twin sister", (yes, Sonia, stupid), he pulled out a candy bar and started to chew happily.   
"Ooh! Baby, baby! Oops, you think I'm in love. That I'm sent from abo-o-o-o-ve, I'm not that inno- ooh! Can I have some?" Sonia noticed the candy.  
"No."  
"Meany!" she replied, pouting.   
When they finally got there, Mr. J blobbed out, and looked at the building. It was three stories high, and it was painted green. Mr. J and Sonia got into the elevator, and got off at the second story.   
"Hi, Sonia!" cried a small, oriental-looking woman with jet-black hair.   
"Hi, Tammy! This is Mr. J. Mr. J, this is Tammy, the president's secretary. She'll help you from here."  
Mr. J sat down in a chair across from Tammy.   
"Our president will be with you shortly."  
Soon, Tammy exclaimed that "Our president" could see him.  
Mr. J rolled his fat through the doorway. As always, the chair was turned around so that he couldn't see the president's face.   
"Mr. um..." he began, trailing off.  
The chair swung around. "Hello, Mr. J."  
*She* was a brunette, (yes, I am biast, making the big girl a brunette), and *she* was wearing leather pants and a white tank top with a leather jacket over it.  
"I've heard you can help me," she said. Her voice had a trendy harshness to it.   
"I hope so," he said, "I could use more money."  
"Well, here's what I need," she said, and now he realized who's voice her's reminded him of, Alex from Charlie's Angels, "I need someone to..." She looked around to make sure no one was listening, then she whispered into his ear...  
  
  
A/N: Don't worry! More coming soon!  
  



	3. 

The Request  
A/N: For those of you who were wondering what this had to do with Harry Potter, you are about to find out.  
  
Mr. J looked at her strangely. "Whussat... supposed... to... mean...?"  
"Well, I suppose for one with a thick skull like yours, it would be difficult to know that, wouldn't it?" she asked impatiently. She pressed a button on her big, scary desk. "Tammy, could you please tell the Mr. Weasleys that I'm ready to see them?" she asked her secretary.  
"Yes, Miss Plousad," Tammy replied.  
To Mr. J's surprise, two boys of about 16 with hair waaaay redder than Sonia's walked into the room. "You mean, this is Fred and George Weasley?"  
"Yes, Mr. J," said Miss Plousad, annoyed, "These are them."  
"Fred and George Weasley," she said, addressing them, "Meet Mr. J. He will be helping you."  
Tammy came in and guided Mr. J, Fred, and George into a separate room. "You can discuss it here," she said, her pride bubbling up. "My boss is busy."  
She left, shutting the door.  
The boys had peevish grins on their faces. "Well," said the one on the left, "What has she told you so far?"  
Mr. J frowned. "You... boys... have... a... friend... named... Hermione... Granger... and... a... brother... named... Ron..."  
They nodded encouragingly.   
"Miss... Plousad... is... Miss... Granger's... cousin...?"  
They nodded again.  
"You... need... help..." he said.  
They nodded once more.  
"Thatsit."  
"Well, we don't quite understand why you were chosen to help, but they picked someone, and it was you," answered the one on the right, who he was pretty sure was named "Fred." "Anyway, Herm- Miss Granger is also best friends with our brother."  
Then George said, "C'mon, Fred. Get to the point, you git!"  
Fred nodded, "I'm getting there, I'm getting there! Well, no one knows how or why, but they've both disappeared. The rest of our family is busy looking for them, as well as Herm- Miss Granger's, and as you can see, Lissy- er- Miss Plousad is quite busy, so Harry and us were sent for your help."  
"Harry?" asked Mr. J.  
A boy with untidy, black hair walked in. "Hi!" he said, "Sorry about that. I got stuck in the elevator-"  
"Is that what that thingy that goes up and down is?" asked George.  
"Yes, Fred."  
Mr. J had been wrong. The one on the *left* was Fred, and... you know.  
"Anyway," the boy continued, "After that, you two were already gone, so I went after you, and the secretary wouldn't tell me where you were, and by the time this weird redhead that was hyperactive was nice enough to tell me where you were, I had to go to the bathroom and that darn secretary wouldn't tell me where that was, and the weirdo was gone, so I spent 20 minutes looking for it, and when I finally found it, it was full, so I went to the shop across the street, and they had a bathroom, so I used it, and then the people at front of this building wouldn't let me get in until I stunned them, then when I got in, I had to ask directions cause I forgot what floor this room was on," said the boy who lived all in one breath.  
"Well, carrying on, then," said Fred.  
Mr. J was very confused, "Why was I chosen to help you?"  
"I might have an idea," answered a cold voice behind him. Harry, Fred, and George turned and screamed. Mr. J looked up.   
  
A/N: NO! This story does not have one thing to do with Voldie, so don't think it does 


	4. The Snapey Guy

Mr. J Part 4: And...  
A/N: All characters (except Mr. J, the secretaries, and the president, who all belong to me) belong to J. K. Rowling.  
  
"It's... it's... um... who...?" Mr. J said a little quicker than usual.  
"It's Santa, stupid!" George said sarcastically.  
"Really...?" Mr. J asked stupidly.  
"No! He's being sarcastic, sir," Harry said, glaring at George with a hello- we're- in- the- middle- of- asking- him- a- favor look.  
"Then... who... is... it...?"  
"He's a teacher at our school, sir," Fred explained patiently, also shooting daggers at George.  
"Then... why... did... you... scream...?... Teachers... make... it... happen..." Mr. J said, quoting something he'd heard during the commercials in between his favorite show, P B & J otter.  
"He's not very nice," all three boys chorused together.  
"May I be a part of this conversation already, Potter?" snapped Snape sharply.  
(A/N: That sounds cool... snapped Snape snapped Snape snapped Snape snapped Snape snapped Snape snapped Snape snapped Snape!!! I'm OK now. Anyway...)  
"Nope," Fred and Harry responded simultaneously while George and Mr. J shook their heads.  
"Okay. Bye!" Snape left.  
"Anyway, where were we?"  
(A/N: That sounds cool, too! Where were we? Where were we? Where were we? Where were we? Where were we? Okay, I won't do it again. Sorry!)  
"We... were... trying... to... figure... out... why... I... was... chosen... to... help... you... guys..." Mr. J responded, showing some brain activity finally.  
"Oh, yeah! So tell me, do you have any special powers, Mr. J?" Fred asked.  
"I... can... eat... a... lot..." Mr. J said scratching his head like a monkey. No wait, that's an insult... to the monkey!  
"What an original answer! Let's hear it for our first contestant, folks!" George said, clapping stupidly.   
"Now onto the second question!" Fred exclaimed just as stupidly.  
"C'mon, guys. Stop fooling around. We have work to do. Mr. J, I don't know why you were chosen to help us, but it's time we got started," Harry interrupted.   
"This one's real intellectual! Let's give him a hand!"  
"Shut it!"  
They did.  
"I don't know where to start, but I have a plan," Harry said dramatically.  
"Seems so," Fred said.  
(A/N: Hey! That- What? Stop screaming at me! Okay, okay. Kill me over commenting over a little rhyme.)  
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"Now, remember. Fred and George'll be a team, and so will Mr. J and I," Harry reminded them.  
"Yes, Captain Harry, sir! Yes, sir, captain, sir!" George muttered under his breath to Fred.  
Harry ignored them. "Come on, Mr. J. Let's go."  
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A/N: So the rescuers are on the way. Tune in next time to see when and where they will find R + H.  
***********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************WHEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!  
  
  



	5. Very Annoying Singing and a Stupid Joke ...

Mr. J Part 5: Um... okay...  
  
A/N: Fred, George, Harry, Ron, and Hermione = J. K.'s.  
  
"I'M DREAMING OF A WHITE CHRISTMAS!!!"  
George grimaced and ignored Fred's singing.  
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"Tra... la... la..."  
Harry grimaced and ignored Mr. J's singing.  
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"Fred, do you hear something?"  
"Kinda... it's creepy."  
"And a little scary."  
"And creepy."  
"Definitel- AHHHHH!!!"  
"VERY funny." Hermione was walking towards them.  
"Hiya, Herm!" Fred exclaimed.  
"Hi."  
"Where've ya been? You missed Christmas!" He threw a particularly nasty glare at Fred, who grinned sheepishly. "You missed Easter, with all the chocolate! Mr. J had to eat it all by himself."  
Fred joined him in laughing hysterically.  
"Yeah... WHATEVER!" Hermione rolled her eyes, but then gave a little smile.   
"Hey, Herm, you wouldn't happen to know where Ron is, would you?"  
"Not that we're looking for him, of course!"  
"Yes, I do. But I still think I shouldn't have gone with instinct, and followed the tra la la's."  
"No, you shouldn't've."  
"Yeah, this guy is like... I dunno, 740 pounds or something."  
"Fred! George! C'mon, it doesn't matter what someone weighs, that's mean!"  
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"Hello? Who's there? Hello? Anyone? I think I see, someone, Mr. J."  
"Really...?"  
Ron appeared out of a bunch of trees. "H'lo, Harry."  
"Ron! Where've you been???"  
But, before Ron could answer, the sound of Fred's (or George's, Harry couldn't tell. I guess he should've asked Ron.) voice came out of the walkie-talkie. "Harry, am I using it right? Do you hear me? Did I press the right eclectic button?"  
"Actually, these run on batteries."   
"Oh. Well, do you hear me?"  
"Yes, I do."  
"Good, well, we've found Hermione!"  
"More, like I found you! You couldn't find a neon-green sheep on a sheet of black paper," Hermione's shrill voice interrupted.  
"Hello, Hermione. Guess what? We found Ron!"  
"Yes, that's WONDERFUL. As if I didn't even know where he was. Really." She sniffed.  
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So, Hermione, once they were back at the office of the multi-color hair, explained. "You see, we were going for a walk and... um... then what happened, Ron?"  
"Um.... I do not know!"  
"And he wins a mi-"  
"We've heard, Fred."  
  
The End  
  
  



End file.
